“Last chance to back out,” I say to Leo as we stand on the television studio back lot. Racks of costumes roll by and people in headsets scurry across our path, yelling indistinguishable words to unseen others. The street is alive with stress and excitement, and even though I almost get run over by a speeding golf cart, I couldn’t care less because there’s a large sign that says MADCAP MARKET AUDITIONS THIS WAY in front of me. Once we follow that arrow, we’re in this. There’s no reneging the lie, no going back.
He nudges me with his elbow. “There’s no way I’m backing out. Let’s do this.”
After we check in at the first table and fill out our casting forms on tablets, we’re brought into a massive holding room swarming with hopefuls. Everyone is talking animatedly to one another. Leo and I find a mostly empty corner to catch our breath. The temperature rises the longer the room fills up. The heat and my nerves are the perfect tag team for pit stains. Perhaps I should’ve worn a darker color.
“Y’all excited?” asks a blonde, white woman beside us with twin braids snaking down her back. She’s got a slight twang to her voice as she bounces on the balls of her feet with excitement. “I’m Jessica and this is my cousin, Darla.” Darla seems to be more interested in the game on her phone than her surroundings. “What number audition is this for you both?”
“This is our first time out here,” I tell her.
“Ah, we got a couple of virgins over here.” She smacks Darla in the arm. Darla doesn’t even flinch. I wish I could be as unaffected as Darla. “This is our sixth time here.”
“Seventh,” Darla corrects, finally acknowledging us, voice barely audible over the roar of the noisy crowd. There have to be a couple hundred people in here minimum.
“Seventh. Right. Sorry.” Jessica recalibrates. “You lose track after a while.”
“Is it common to audition more than once?” Leo asks.
“Absolutely. The casting directors are super picky.” Jessica stresses the wordsuper. She’s got the exact kind of personality they feature on this show—overly bubbly. We’re going to need to lean into the theatrics to compete with her. “Wouldn’t be one of TV’s longest running game shows without the right combination of contestants on every episode. A new crop of locals come to the weekly open calls over and over. Sometimes they cut you based on your outfit. Sometimes they cut you based on your partner. Sometimes they already chose another cousin duo for the upcoming taping, which was our luck last time. We got so close and then got the boot. Still salty over that.”
My anxiety doubles. Nowhere in my research did it say any of this. Though, in fairness, I was too excited to think straight when I realized I had the money to seize this opportunity finally. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” Jessica says. “Just don’t be discouraged if you don’t get it this time. We’ve met a ton of people over the weeks who eventually get it. They make you wait a week or two, but you can always come back.”
“Um, well, I’m from New York.” I swallow a wad of panic spit that has taken up residence in my throat. “So, I kind of can’t just come back.”
Jessica’s face falls. I swear I notice a slight smirk on Darla’s lips as if she’s just eliminated us as potential competition for her today. “Sorry, I didn’t realize. Since they don’t fly anyone out for the show and still do open calls the old-fashioned way, I just assume everyone’s local.”
A casting director comes out with a megaphone and a clipboard. She calls the room to attention and announces the first group of potential contestants—including Jessica and Darla—to follow her into the next room for the first round of the audition.
“Nice meeting you both. Good luck!” Jessica says. Darla doesn’t even look back.
When the first group fully filters out, Leo turns to me. “This might be harder than we thought.”
“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “You’re right.”
Luckily, by the time our group is called, we fly through the first round, which was standing in a single file line in a room as an assistant walked by us and looked us over. Leo and I make a handsome pair, are sure not to slouch, and introduce ourselves with so much enthusiasm you could’ve sworn we were Disney World employees, so we immediately get tapped to wait out in the hall for the next round.
Our conviction builds with each round we breeze through. In the easy trivia round, I get all of mine right. Leo gets half of his right, which is a major step up and lets me know he’s been taking his studying seriously. When he gives me two thumbs-ups as our names are called to advance, I want to pin a gold star to his shirt and congratulate him with a kiss. The kind of kiss that would probably get us kicked out of here.
The third round is a bouncy castle. Yes, the kind that get rented for children’s birthday parties. Only one person in the pair has to partake, so Leo steps up, doing exactly as we planned—peeling off his wholesome cardigan to give the casting associates a front-row seat to the gun show still blazing beneath the tight sleeves of his polo.
It has the desired effect as Leo easily weaves his way through the tipping bags and over the hill, besting the competition by a mile at least. Even though we don’t get any extra points for being the first to finish, Leo—wearing the giddiest, cutest smile—bounces onto his butt with flair and comes sliding down to meet the waiting casting assistant holding a sweat towel and a bottle of water.
It’s only when Leo comes back to me that I realize my nerves have skittered away, replaced by...fun? We put so much pressure on this that I forgot one of the tenets ofMadcapMarketis the pure joy of the game. It’s been so long since I’ve loosened up like this.
Once the crowd has been whittled down, we brave a final interview with the head of casting. Minutes pass like hours.
We’re called into the small room where bright lights are set up and squared off to a pair of uncomfortable-looking fabric chairs. There’s a large black camera on a tripod set up to the side of a long table where an older white man and an older white woman sit, shuffling through papers, whispering to one another.
“Right this way,” a brown-skinned casting associate wearing twee glasses says, ushering us over to sit. I squirm, attempting and failing to relax. Then, Leo’s hand lands on my thigh, a possessive touch that grabs the attention of the chatty casting directors. The camera starts rolling.
The woman’s smile beams even from behind the lights. “Leo Min and Holden James, thank you for coming in. Leo, you’re from town, but Holden, it says here your address is out in New York. What brings you to Los Angeles?”
Assurance blooming, I place my hand on top of Leo’s and squeeze. “This guy.”
He may not be the reason I flew out here, but miraculously, he is the reason I’ve stayed and enjoyed it. That counts for something, and makes the words sound more truthful.
The man jumps in: “Says here you two met on a fan forum. Our show brought about this spark?” He uses the cap end of his pen to point between us.
